


Nostalgia trap

by myotishia



Series: Psyonic [19]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-20 13:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30005847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myotishia/pseuds/myotishia
Summary: A lorry driver disappears after stopping at a motorway services that had supposedly closed years before.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Owen Harper/Toshiko Sato
Series: Psyonic [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766956
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Running to the 90s

Gwen walked into the hub, slumped down into the sofa, dropped her bag next to her and tried her very best to hold back the tears she’d been desperately swallowing down all morning. Melody placed her morning coffee on the table in front of her. 

“What’s wrong?” The blond woman asked.

She took a shuddering breath before reaching for her mug. “Sorry. Tracy called this morning. The caterer’s gone under so not only have we lost the deposit but now we need to find a new caterer that’s free on the day and it’s not going well.” She sipped her coffee and tried to calm down. 

“Leave it to me. And I topped up the biscuits in the tin, you need to top up your sugar.”

“It’s fine, I just needed to vent.”

“I am here to assist, so let me assist.” Mel smiled and pulled out her phone, hitting a contact Gwen didn’t see. “Hi… Yea, sorry, I’ll make it up to you… Your brothers business does weddings, right?... Fab. Is it ok if I give his contact info to Gwens wedding planner?... Her caterer went under… Are you sure?... Tell him I can cover any deposit or excess… You’re an angel…. Yea… See you tonight… Love you too.” She ended the call with a light blush and a smile, and quickly wrote down a phone number. “Here we go. Rudy Brookhill of Brookhill catering is expecting Tracys call.”

“Wha-... Who…”

“Heathers brother owns a catering company that specialises in fancy dinners for diplomats and, when they get the chance, fancy weddings. She says she’ll give you her friends and family discount and I’ll cover the deposit so you don’t need to worry.”

She placed down her mug and stood, rushing over to Mel and pulling her into her arms. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

Mel chuckled and handed over the number, watching Gwen dig for her own phone to call the wedding planner with a mix of relief and happiness on her face. 

“I thought Heathers brother was an archaeologist.” Ianto said, handing over her own morning coffee.

“Thanks. That’s her other brother, Richard.”

“Busy family.”

“Very. So, how can I help today?” She sipped her coffee, appreciating the warmth spreading through her core. 

“It’s quiet for now. Tosh is working on Ammit. Owen’s in the hothouse. Jack’s reading, or he was last I checked.”

“You’ve jinxed it now.”

He smiled. “Someone had to.”

Gwen held the little piece of paper like it was made of pure gold as she spoke with Tracy. The woman had sounded as relieved as Gwen was and had been very impressed hearing the Brookhill name. Apparently they were known for running high end do’s in London and surrounding areas. Gwen just hoped she’d be able to keep within her budget, even with the loan from Melody. While it was quiet she decided to tell Rhys too. He’d been only a little less frazzled than she had. 

“Hello love. Please tell me the cake shop hasn’t exploded or something.” He said, his voice sounding slightly crackly as the reception wasn’t exactly the best in the yard.

She smiled to herself. “No, but the catering might be sorted. One of Heathers brothers does catering for fancy do’s and she’s given us the ok to have a chat with them.”

“Oh, brilliant.”

“Isn’t it? Sorry to bother you at work.”

“No, I’d rather know. It’s a good thing you called.”

“Yea?”

“Well, we’ve had a bit of a strange one this morning. One of the lads has disappeared and left his lorry behind.”

“That is a bit strange.”

“Oh it gets stranger. They gave me his dashcam, just to see if he decided to just quit and got a taxi or something before we called the police… Well, he pulled up at the services at about eleven thirty last night, walked in, twenty minutes later all the lights go off in the place and it’s empty.”

“What do you mean empty?”

“I mean it looks like it’s been closed for years. I looked the place up. It has been closed for years. Since nineteen ninety three. Jason said the barrier was still down when he went to pick the lorry up. He had to call the council to get it unlocked. There was no way Barry should have even been able to get into the carpark.”

“I’ll come and pick up the footage.”

“I’ll tell the lads he just walked off back towards the road. Probably got a taxi home or something.”

“Look at you making my job easier.”

“I’ve got to make someones job easier.” He said, his smile audible. “Want me to pull his lorry round somewhere quiet?”

“Thank you sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.” 

Tosh walked around the lorry, a scanner in her hand, looking for any kind of energetic residue left from the strange phenomena. If she could find what kind of anomaly it was she might be able to reverse it and find a way to rescue the missing driver. That would be the plan in a perfect world anyway.

She’d gotten a few interesting readings. The lorry had at least brushed past a tear in the fabric of time. The levels she was getting would have no effect on the machine and would most likely fade to nothing within the next twenty four hours. She suspected the site of his disappearance would be the key. She stood back and saw Gwen and Rhys approaching.

“Have you found anything?” Gwen asked.

Tosh slipped the monitor into her bag. “Only residue. Definitely some kind of time distortion. I’m interested in seeing the footage before we visit the location.” 

“Do you think you’ll be able to get Barry back?” Asked Rhys, looking uncomfortable. “He’s a good bloke, wife and three kids at home and all that.”

“If we can then we definitely will.”

“Y-yea… Sorry, I know you’ve just found out about this.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m sure Gwen’ll keep you updated.” She assured him. 

Gwen rubbed his back softly. “You’ll know once I do. Will you be alright?”

“Yea.” He nodded. “Just didn’t wake up this morning thinking I’d be dealing with a missing person.”

“Just try and leave it to us now.”

“As long as it isn’t wedding problems I can handle it.” He joked, trying to lift his own mood if nothing else. 

She rolled her eyes fondly. “Don’t jinx it.”

The dashcam footage wasn’t the clearest thing in the world and it was pointing quite far to the left so only half of the building was visible, but even so it was clear that when he’d parked the services had been lit up and open for business. The bright yellow M of the McDonalds sign looked well kept and large posters advertising kids meals were hung up in the windows. 

“It’s the last year it was open.” Ianto commented. 

Owen glanced over at him. “How did you work that out?”

“The posters are for Aladdin which was released in nineteen ninety three, the same year the place closed.”

He looked back at the screen and noticed that Ianto was completely correct. Large pictures of little plastic Aladdin branded toys were printed next to the advertising for the kids meals. “Back when they could get away with advertising junk food to kids directly. Could be old posters though.”

“They could, but if they were they’d be too faded to see clearly in this lighting.”

Gwen looked puzzled. “If it is showing us back then what caused it. I mean don’t these time rips usually happen when something drastic goes on?”

“Usually, but not always.” Jack clarified. “We need to know if this was a one off event or if we’ve got a real problem on our hands.”

“We’ve already got a problem. A man walks into a time rip and just disappears, no records of someone showing up out of the blue back then, someone had to have noticed.”

“Unless he didn’t travel through time. Maybe he walked in and is still stuck in the building now it’s reverted. Whichever it is, we need to check this place out.” 

“We’ll have to do some off roading unless you want to call the council.”

“When have I ever let something as small as a barrier stop me?”

Jack had not been joking when he said the barrier wouldn’t stop him as he drove onto the overgrown grass verge to get around it, the SUV practically bouncing across the deep divots in the ground. Tosh didn’t know whether she should hold onto her laptop bag or use both hands to hold herself in place. Owen and Gwen had decided that holding on for dear life was more important than anything else at that point. They let out a collective sigh of relief as they drove back onto the old tarmac. The carpark had seen better days, roots and grass having grown up and through the edges. The paint had faded and chipped so it was hard to tell where the spaces originally were, not that it mattered. Jack parked a fair distance away from the building just in case there was a significant distortion. The building looked every bit its age, the windows boarded up and covered in graffiti, the doors covered with metal shutters and the roof looking like it wasn’t keeping the rain out anymore. A flock of pigeons rested on the roof next to one of the large holes, cooing happily to themselves before fluttering down at the possibility that these new people had food.

“How’s it looking?” Asked Jack, surveying the area. 

Tosh glanced up from her PDA. “Well, it’s calm for the moment but there’s definite evidence of a huge time distortion. At these levels I don’t think we were just viewing the past, I think that time overlapped with this one. It’s calm for now so it should be safe to go inside.”

“Good to know. Set up any monitoring equipment you think would be useful while we do a little urban exploration.” 

Owen grabbed a set of bolt cutters from the boot. “Or as I call it, breaking and entering.”

“Wait, why didn’t we use those to open the barrier?” Gwen asked, looking less than amused. 

“I suggested it but Jack didn’t want to stop.”

“We’re going to have to leave it locked on the way back, aren't we?”

“If we want to find the cameras still here tomorrow, yea.”

“I don’t think anyone’s bothered to come this way in years. That was why it closed in the first place.”

“Well someone did.”

Owen cut away the rusted padlock that held the beaten shutters closed and placed the cutters aside as Jack and Gwen wrenched the shutters open as best they could. It got about half way up before jamming completely. It was far enough to duck under so it’d have to do. The building looked cavernous inside. The paint had bubbled and peeled from the walls and the carpet had long rotted away but some of the larger fixtures remained. The counters were still standing, though some were heavily water damaged, and more than one had signs of animals using them as a place to nest. 

“This place is…” Gwen began.

“A shithole?” Owen ducked under the shutter to join them. 

“Could be worse. It doesn’t look like anyone’s managed to get in.”

There was, on first glance, a distinct lack of graffiti or signs of squatters, but it didn’t feel completely untouched by human hands. Something didn’t feel right. That was to be expected with the strange activity but it still made looking around the place feel wrong somehow. Owen headed to the right, Gwen to the left, and Jack made his way up to the small second floor, deciding that if anyone was going to fall through the floor it should be him. It looked as if the second floor held only two store units. One that had once sold camping and sporting goods and the other that could have been anything with how it had been emptied. The camping store had left behind a lot of signage, and a few mannequins that unnerved Jack as he spotted them in his peripheral vision. Maybe that was why he felt as if he was being watched. He strode across the room to check the stockroom when one of the mannequins fell with a loud clatter. A few of the pigeons flew away in surprise. Jack rolled his eyes at himself, a military man getting jumpy because an old mannequin fell over. What caught his attention about the plastic figure was that its arm was outstretched as if it was pointing. To ease his own curiosity he followed it with his eyes and saw something scratched into the far wall. On closer inspection it was the word ‘help’ scraped into the cracked plaster.

Owen walked past the old plastic booths, stopping to remember just how creepy the old Ronald McDonald statues were as one sat with its arm stretched over the back of a bench. He’d always hated that clown. Leaving behind the fiberglass entertainer he walked around the counter and into the space that had once been the kitchen. The machinery had been removed when the place closed, leaving only marks where things had been installed. A stack of cardboard sat in the corner, partially shredded and used to make a nest for a family of mice he chose not to disturb. As far as he could tell there was no sign of anyone getting into the place for a very long time. Something clattered to the floor from what had been the playroom. He assumed it was a rat or something but checked it out anyway. A small toy rocked back and forth on the floor as if it had just been dropped there. 

“Hello?” He said, expecting Gwen to be just around the corner, laughing at his reaction. Nothing. Not even footsteps. He picked up the toy and wondered if it had just fallen off a shelf but it couldn’t have. It was one of those weighted figures that always self righted. Looking back at where it had been sitting he saw something smeared on the floor in the low light. He took a torch from his inside pocket and switched it on. The words ‘please see me’ were finger painted onto the concrete in what he was sure was dried blood. 

Gwen had checked three of the retail units already and found nothing but rubbish and one very confused squirrel that had scampered away as fast as its little legs would allow. The last set of rooms were a staff only area that looked like it had avoided most of the liquid damage over the years. It still smelled of mildew but she was less likely to stand in a puddle. The offices were small, as was the break room, but the locker room was somewhat larger. The lockers that had been screwed to the wall still remained, most having keys still hanging from the doors, each one cleared out as the place had closed. She shone her torch around the windowless room, ready to call it clear when the sound of a locker door being slammed shut made her jump and whip around. There was noone there but the door slowly creaked open.

“Owen, if you’re playing silly buggers I swear-”

She was cut off by the locker door slamming again all on its own. It was followed by a cascade of noise as each door was violently slammed shut. If she believed in ghosts she’d swear this was a poltergeist. 

“Ok, you’ve got my attention. What are you?” She said, backing away from the lockers. 

The noise stopped, the air heavy. A scraping noise drew her attention to the far wall where little chips of paint and plaster fell away leaving the words ‘GET OUT NOW’ carved into it. 


	2. Surveillance

Owen watched the screen of his field lab, analysing the blood that he’d found. It was human, that had been confirmed, but it would take some time to identify who it belonged to. 

“Did you bring anything with you out of there?” Asked Tosh, a scanner in her hand.

“No… Wait…” He pulled the small toy out of his pocket. He’d absentmindedly placed it in there as he’d read the sanguine message. “Something dropped this to get my attention.”

She took the little figure and examined it. “So something’s directly interacting with our timeline.”

“More like someone. The blood’s human.”

“This doesn’t make sense.”

“Most things we work with don’t.”

“No, I mean we’ve seen time rips before. Unless it’s open and active one time cannot affect the other directly. If it’s open enough to do that then whoever’s sending the message should be able to walk back.”

The field lab computer beeped to say it had found a match for the blood sample. It belonged to an eighteen year old woman named Hannah Redding, who’d been missing for three weeks. “Looks like this has been going on for a while.”

“What?... My sensors should have picked a distortion this size up.”

“Are you getting angry that the rift’s got a new trick?” He smirked, knowing just how rare that was and just how close his girlfriend was to losing her usual measured demeanour. 

She pouted slightly. “Of course not.”

“So yes.”

“Owen.”

He put his hands up in faux surrender. “I will never question your machines ever again.”

“Do the others know you left?”

“They can contact me.”

“Which is a good thing really.” Gwen said, leaning against the side of the SUV, looking a little shaken. 

“What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I did. Or something you’d call a ghost.”

Owen and Tosh shared a confused look.

“I found the old locker room and something I couldn’t see started slamming the lockers. When I asked it who it was it scratched ‘get out’ into the wall.” She explained, knowing exactly how much like a horror movie it sounded. She expected Owen to laugh and make fun but he just nodded. 

“Something left me a message too, except mine was written on the floor in blood.” He showed her a photo he’d taken on his phone. “Must be two different things. This one sounds like it wants the attention.”

“I thought Jack would be out here with you. Do you think he ran into something too?”

“That or he fell through the old flooring.” 

She tapped her earpiece. “Jack?”

“Can I help you?” Came the reply in Jacks smooth American accent. “Or is this a social call?”

“So you’re fine then. Me and Owen have been dealing with poltergeists.”

He chuckled softly. “Ghosts? Seriously?”

“Something leaving messages in blood, scraping them into walls and slamming lockers.”

“You found a message too?”

“Yes. So there was one upstairs?”

“A mannequin pointed it out. It’s scratched into the wall.”

“And you were acting like I was the one taking the piss.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Not to interrupt-” Tosh said “-but can someone put this camera inside the foyer?”

While the rest of the team were out Ianto had taken a moment to help Melody tidy the main area of the hub. He stared at something barely identifiable that was sitting in a tupperware container on Owens desk.

“And for the next round of is it alien or is it leftovers, I’m taking bets.” 

She giggled. “I vote leftovers. I keep asking him to just leave any unwanted food on the top, or put it in the bin, but they always end up hidden under something and when he realises he doesn’t want to admit he messed up. It’s almost sweet.”

“Sweet and Owen don’t often turn up in the same sentence.” He used a pen to nudge the container into the bin bag he was holding. “I’m not even going to try and rescue that one for recycling.”

“You didn’t find the half eaten curry hidden under a box full of plant food. The smell made it through the plastic itself.”

“I used to think he did it just to wind me up.”

“Nope, just easily distracted. Oh, I meant to ask, there’s a mark on the calendar for tomorrow but it doesn’t have a note to say what it’s for.”

“That’s the quarterly combat training session. The last few have been put off because of active cases but this time it might actually go ahead.”

She frowned to herself as she ran a cloth over one of Toshikos monitor screens. “Oh… Is it mandatory?”

“Not officially but Jack will hound you about it if you don’t attend.” He smiled, remembering the few times he’d considered something else more important and Jack had threatened to carry him to it and then offered a few  _ private _ training sessions if he would just turn up. He turned up and was an enthusiastic participant. 

“Maybe I can convince him to let me take a rain check on this one.”

“Why?”

“I have the physical strength and coordination of a wet noodle. I felt bad enough when Gwen tried her best to teach me.”

“You’ll get it. You just need to find the method suited to you.”

“I call it being a telepath and hoping for the best.”

“I know that’s effective but what if your telepathy is suppressed?”

“Then I’m up a certain creek without a paddle, or a boat for that matter.”

“Which is what tomorrow should fix. Or at least patch. You’ll be fine.”

“I highly doubt that.” She sorted through a stack of papers that had been scattered and paperclipped the relevant ones together, adding post it notes to say what each bundle was. “I’m just not built for combat.”

“Humans aren’t built for the kind of combat we get into. Anyway, you might just not be suited to Gwens methods. She was trained by the police so she has a certain technique. Compared to Owen who fights like a cornered badger.”

She smiled at the comparison. “What about you?”

“I’m methodical I suppose. I prefer to use my environment to my advantage over just directly trying to attack.”

“That sounds just like you.”

“Thanks.” He tied up the bin bag and placed it aside. “Tosh uses her opponents momentum and strength against them. She’s accurate with her movements. Maybe that would be better for you.”

“Maybe.”

“Anyway, I’ve seen you carry more than most people your build would without too much trouble. That and you have guitar playing muscle.”

“You’re greatly overestimating my capabilities, but thank you. I’ll show up, just try not to laugh when I get thrown for the tenth time.”

“I promise I’ll try.”

“If I was just allowed to use my passive telepathy during these things it wouldn’t be a problem.” 

“Hmm?”

“I understand not attacking but nothing can hit me if I’m using my passive ability.”

“How?”

She stepped away from the desk and pulled a spare, clean, rag from her pocket. “Come here.” She walked down to the widest area of free space then blindfolded herself. “Try and push me over.”

“What? I don’t want to have to call Owen saying you’ve cracked your head open.”

“I won’t. I’ll bet you dinner that you won’t even touch me. You can even take your shoes off so I won’t hear you.”

“You’re very confident.” He slipped off his shoes and carefully followed her. 

She shrugged. “I just know how this pans out.”

He crept around her to poke her in the back of the shoulder but found he was poking empty air. She’d moved in perfect time to avoid him. He swiped his hand, intending to push her to the side, but watched as she moved with perfect timing and fluidity out of his reach. 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that.” She smiled, gently egging him on.

He stood back, a little more convinced. “Ok, but if you get hurt it’s not my fault.”

“You can try and punch me if you want. It’s not going to connect.”

“I don’t think I trust it that much yet, but I will try and pick you up.”

“Knock yourself out.”

He moved to the left before switching to the right, trying to keep her off guard, intending to push her in the centre of her back, but once again he found himself pushing air and almost tripping over. Steadying himself he turned to try and grab her but she crouched out of the way easily, rolling forward to put some distance between them. 

He stopped and laughed to himself. “Do me a favour, don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?” She pulled off the makeshift blindfold. 

“Because it’ll be funnier if anyone tries to test you and you pull that.”

She laughed softly. “Ok, I’ll keep it between us. And remember, you owe me dinner now.”

“And Jack owes me dinner so maybe we can work it out.” 

Heather looked out across the water, waiting for her girlfriend. The air had warmed a little and was no longer biting. The slow sunset was beautiful, the sky a mix of fiery oranges, deep purples and bright gold shades. The sound of the rolling waves was soothing and put her in a wonderful mood. 

“Evening.” Melody smiled, trotting over. 

She turned and beamed. “Good evening beautiful. How was your day?”

“Pretty quiet. Thanks again for this morning.”

“No problem. Is Gwen ok?”

“She’s fine. She says thank you as well. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Ianto owes me dinner and Jack owes him so we were thinking of going somewhere nice while it’s quiet.” 

“Sounds fun.”

“Cool. They’ll be out in a sec. Jack’s just grabbing his coat.” 

“The blue one?” She asked brightly.

“Yea.”

“That looks so cosy. I kind of want one.”

“I mean I can look into it for you but you might be a tad small in the shoulders for the vintage fit.”

“Is it legit?”

“Yep. He has the hat to match in his office.”

“That’s dedication to a look that I can respect.”

Mel decided not to mention that the coat and hat were not only legitimate, but also originally his, not picked up second hand.

“I almost feel underdressed next to you lot.” Heather laughed softly.

“I think you look gorgeous.” 

“And I think you’re too sweet for your own good. If we didn’t have company I’d have to drag you off somewhere private.”

“Maybe after dinner.” 


End file.
